


Right the Wrongs

by Catsarecutebutaliens



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Autistic Bruce Banner, Fluff, M/M, Meltdown, Natasha is there for like a sentence, Snow, Thor saves the day, ThorBruce Secret Santa 2018, Winter, a bit more angst than expected tbh, autistic author, because he always does for Bruce, but everything turns out alright, married Thorbruce, she's a good friend tho, thorbruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 20:08:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17168552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsarecutebutaliens/pseuds/Catsarecutebutaliens
Summary: When Bruce wakes up, he is alone. When everything goes wrong, Thor makes things feel right again.





	Right the Wrongs

**Author's Note:**

> This is my secret santa gift for missmaddiewriting! A bit more angst than planned sneaked into this, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless <3 Happy Holidays!

On some days, everything felt wrong. Bruce woke up, and the first thing he noticed was the blanket, which was wrapped around his body the wrong way. The texture of his favorite fluffy blanket felt like steel wool against his oversensitive skin, and he hurried out of bed to get away from it. But even when it stopped touching him, the tingly feeling spread over his body until it took over his thoughts. His body wanted to move, his fingers wanted to scratch and rub and hit until the feeling was gone, but he forced himself to stand still, as always.

Usually, he would wake up in Thor's arms, but the god of thunder had been out on a mission with Steve for the last two days, and Bruce was missing him desperately.

A shower sometimes helped, and since he had to take one anyway, it was better than doing nothing. Bruce usually loved the way the warm water relaxed his muscles and the sound it made when hitting him and the ground. Today, it felt like torture. The temperature was wrong, too hot, too cold, too everything. Every drop felt like a needle penetrating his skin, and while it washed away the bad texture of the blanket, it strained his self-control even more. He could have tried to make it bearable, but knowing that was impossible, he closed his eyes and let the routine take over.

Using the soap, shampoo, washing it off. Turning off the water, opening the door, stepping out. 

He kept his eyes closed to avoid the feeling of water in his eyes and blindly reached for the towel, which felt just as scratchy and bad as the blanket.

Drying body and hair, wrapping it around his hips. 

Tony's technology prevented the steam from settling anywhere so he could see himself in the mirror. Not that he wanted to, that is, so he quickly brushed his teeth and tried not to taste the painfully cold mint in his mouth.  
Thor's unused toothbrush made his chest ache with longing for him and he tried to remind himself he was going to see him soon.

Leaving the bathroom, fifteen steps to his bed, draping the towel over the bottom of it, getting clothes to wear.

Bruce settled for his favorite black sweater, the only safe texture for today it seemed and put on some of Thor's sweatpants, which were long enough to cover his feet. There was nothing worse than pants riding up your legs with every step. 

He could see his gold ring sitting on the bedside and considered leaving it there for a second, before picking it up and putting it into its usual place. It was too tight even though it fitted perfectly.

The cold ground helped him to calm down a bit, and he had to resist the urge of simply laying down and enjoying it. As much as he wanted to close his eyes once again and just sleep away, he knew his brain wouldn't allow him to.

Breakfast was the next thing on his list and he grabbed his glasses before taking off to the kitchen. Almost the whole team was there, the only missing people were Bucky, Steve and, of course, Thor. No one looked up when he came in and he was glad about it. As he went to take his favorite mug from the cupboard, Natasha's voice stopped him.

"It's on the table." Bruce turned around and looked at his friend, forcing a smile onto his face. Natasha was trying to be nice and he knew it, but his mind was screaming. This was his job, his mug, his routine and she had screwed it up. Only the prospect of coffee calmed him down again. After all, Natasha knew what he was going through better than anyone.

"Thank you," he said and sat down at the table, trying everything to keep the mask on his face. This would be a long day.

 

After breakfast, his glasses became the problem. They sat wrong on his face no matter what he did, and felt crooked, even though the mirror told him every time they weren't. Work was almost always enough to help on bad days, but today it only made things worse.

"Fuck," he yelled and shoved the glass container off the desk with enough force to make it meet the next wall. Heat burned through his veins and he could see a slight green tint coloring his peripheral vision. Nothing was going as planned and frustration had long but settled into his stomach as well. The urge to scream and hit and move, just move, wasn't helping either. His glasses had been discarded two hours ago after he had been about to smash these as well. 

Calming down enough to continue working was unlikely at this point and he couldn't bring himself to care about the broken glass either. Instead, he left the lab, walking as fast as he could away. Bruce just wanted to walk, just walk somewhere, anywhere. His sweater was too thick and too scratchy and too warm. His hair was tingling his neck in a horrible way which made him want to cut it off. The pants he had chosen in the morning were swaying around his ankles in just the wrong way and everything was wrong and bad and- he was almost running when he suddenly collided with something warm.

"Woah, hey there," a deep voice said and a hand grasped his arm firmly to prevent him from falling over. His eyes pressed shut he started counting in his head. Bruce didn't even recognize the voice as his husband's

One, two, three - let me go, please let me - four, five - I can't, I- six-

"Banner? Are you alright?" Thor's voice drifted through his thoughts and interrupted them but he was too loud, everything was and this wasn't helping. The joy at seeing him again, the joy he should be feeling, wanted to be feeling, was buried deep inside him.

Unable to say a single word, he yanked himself free and stumbled backward. His eyes were still closed because these damn lights were way too bright, and he couldn't see and think and breath. He fell onto the ground and sat against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, head between them. 

The counting in his head continued and when Thor was talking again Bruce was unable to understand a single word. Still, it was too loud and before he knew what he was doing he was counting out loud, speaking as fast as his mouth allowed him. He was rocking as well, back and forth a bit slower than his counting. Bruce didn't want to, he wasn't allowed to, but it helped. It helped so much more than anything else he had done all day.

He didn't know how long he was sitting on the ground, rocking and counting with his senses shut off from the rest of the world. Gradually, the counting slowed down and died once five thousand had passed his lips. Exhaustion was washing over him in waves and he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

The only problem was that he was still sitting on the ground in an embarrassing position and just had a meltdown right in front of Thor.

Thor. His husband.

Wait.

"You're back," Bruce whispered and looked up into dimmed lights to find Thor sitting right in front of him. A small smile tugged on the blonde man's lips when he caught Bruce looking at him and he carefully leaned forward, now sitting cross-legged opposite him.

"I'm back, love," he repeated, and slowly stretched out one hand towards Bruce, an offer he happily took.

Settling into the man's arms was like coming home, always has been, and once again he was marveled at the fact that Thor had chosen him to be his partner.

"Are you feeling better?", he asked, voice quiet and calm, something Bruce's ears appreciated. The only things in his voice were worry hidden behind relief and softness. 

Suddenly too tired to talk, he snuggled deeper into the embrace and nodded against Thor's chest, who pressed a kiss to his head in response. 

Instead of helping him up, he picked him up instead just like he did after a fight as Hulk. Thor's skin was still radiating the same warmth as before but now, instead of overstimulating him, it was a comfort.

Now, with his mind slowly clearing he could smell the molten snow on Thor's clothes and remembered the date. 

The 22nd of December, it was almost Christmas. Their first Christmas as a married couple.

They walked down the hallway with the lights still dimmed. He tried not to lose himself in Thor's arms, but it was just nice to feel the warmth and stability of the man around him. He anchored him just like he always did. Bruce closed his eyes again and breathed in the scent of laundry detergent and snow the taller man was emitting. 

Once they reached their room, which had felt so unbelievably empty letting go seemed pretty much impossible. They settled onto the bed, Bruce's had on his chest and both their arms slung around each other. Fingers intertwined, their wedding bands rested side by side.

Talking wasn't needed, there would be time for that later.

Thor softly laid a hand onto his cheek and turned his head toward him, his blue eyes gently roaming over his face, asking a question. Bruce let himself be kissed, bathed in the feeling of completeness and love.

That was all he needed.

 

The next day, they went outside together, bundled up in layers of clothes, holding each other's gloved hands. Snow fell around them, calm and quiet, and when Thor smiled at him, he knew he wouldn't feel cold any time soon.


End file.
